


A Touch of Make Up Can't Cover Mistakes

by Mad_Hatter_Usagi



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Grantaire wears make up, Grantaire's ex is an asshole, Grantaire's ex is named Tomas, M/M, and tries to keep secrets, this will end well i promise, Éponine is a bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1329652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Hatter_Usagi/pseuds/Mad_Hatter_Usagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five months ago, Grantaire met a guy and started going out with him. The only person he told about the relationship was Éponine. Grantaire ends up moving in with the guy, becoming sober for him, and quitting Les Amis. All the while, he ignores the fact that this guy hits him when he gets mad, controls who he speaks to, and doesn't care much about Grantaire's interests.<br/>Finally, Grantaire breaks up with him, and ends up getting beat up because of it. So he goes back to Éponine's apartment and they make a plan to get back to normalcy as quick as possible. Once the cuts heal, Grantaire has to wear makeup to hide the bruises. But then Les Amis meet the ex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Split (Lip)

A loud banging roused Éponine from her sleep. The still-drowsy girl stumbled out of her bedroom and toward the front door, from where the knocking was coming from. As she walked, she wondered who the hell was calling on her at- she checked the clock on the microwave briefly- three in the morning. She opened the door, leveling a steady glare at her visitor.

It dropped a moment later when she found Grantaire leaning against the door frame with quickly coloring bruises around his eyes and cheekbones, and puffy, split lips. Blood dripped from his nose, mouth, and hairline. Éponine stared in shock at her friend, who gave her a crooked sarcastic smile.

"I finally broke up with him," he said, pushing his curly bangs out of his eyes. "I was hoping you'd help fix me up, with a bit of discretion? I don't want the rest of the guys knowing about it. They'd throw a fit."

Éponine sighed and took her friend's hand. She led him inside, sitting him in a kitchen chair. "I'll fix you up, and help keep you hidden from _our friends_ until your cuts are healed, then I'll help you cover up with a bit of makeup so you can go out without looking like a raccoon."

"You're an angel, 'Ponine. I love you, you know that?" He murmured as she handed him a couple painkiller tablets and a glass of water.

"I know, I know. Idiot. I love you too," she said.

Éponine wet a wash cloth and began cleaning up her friend's face as he hissed in pain every time she dabbed at an open wound. There was a long silence as she cleaned him up and put fresh My Little Pony band-aids on a cut on his cheek and one on his forehead. Finally, she kissed his forehead lightly.

"You'll be hiding out here then?" At his nod, she continued, "Do you wanna move back in? I haven't touched anything you left here. Which, admittedly, is most of the stuff you own."

"You'd be fine with me moving back in?"

"Of course, you're the perfect room mate. You're a great wingman, you make me pancakes, and you can marathon TV shows with me," Éponine shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

"I simply adore you, 'Ponine. You're my favorite person in the entire universe."

"Even more than Mr. Blond Bombshell?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

"Maybe second favorite then, but Enjolras doesn't know that, does he?" Grantaire laughed, standing to grab a can of soda from the fridge. If Éponine noticed the choice of beverage, she didn't mention it.

Éponine sat in the chair that her brunet friend had previously occupied and replied, "No, he's hopelessly oblivious. I did need to talk to you about him though."

"Hm?" Grantaire prompted.

"Ever since you quit going to meetings because of your bastard ex, Enjolras started pouting at meetings. I never told them why you stopped going, by the way, I don't think they even realized you were dating anyone...I think they all think Enj pushed your arguments a bit too far and you got hurt a little too bad by it. Anyway, Enjy started letting 'Ferre talk more at meetings and staring at where you used to sit. He even asked after you a few times, but I just told him you were too busy to go."

"Thanks for that," he said, swigging his drink.

"You're welcome. You know he'll probably make a fuss about you if you come back to the meetings, right? He'll probably whine that you weren't loyal to the cause or some bullshit like that."

Grantaire barked a laugh and leaned against the kitchen counter. "I'll just suck it up and take the abuse, I'll be back as soon as my cuts heal and makeup can cover my bruises."

"And never tell them that your ex, someone you pointedly never told them about, was an abusive, controlling asshole?"

"If I can manage it," he replied.

"You should go get some rest. But before you do that, gimme his address, your key to his place, and a list of the stuff you want back. I'll break into his place in the morning, when he's away."

"No-"

"Yes. I can take care of myself, you know that. Now, gimme," Éponine demanded and handed him a pen and a notepad and watched as he scribbled down all the information, then handed over a key.

She smiled softly at the beaten man and led him to his old bedroom. She helped him get comfortable, then switched off the lights. He was asleep almost immediately, and kept sleeping until noon. Grantaire shuffled into the living room, where two cardboard boxes of his things sat on the coffee table. He smiled and picked up the note on top of one of the boxes.

_**Dear R, I got your stuff without seeing your ex, everything was fine. I'm going to work, and then the meeting tonight. There'll be another one in a couple days, which I think you'll be okay to go to, if you want. I won't be home 'til late so don't wait up. Text me if you need anything.** _

Grantaire set the note down and walked to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich


	2. Excitement Ensues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Éponine goes to Les Amis' meeting and shares some good news.

Éponine smiled softly at the familiar tinkling of bells as the door to the Musain swung inward. Bahorel and Feuilly called out to her as she walked to the bar to order a drink, several of the others waved cheerfully. Éponine took note of Enjolras's reaction of staring longingly at the door, then forcing his gaze to the tabletop in front of him and beginning to pout. After all, Grantaire used to always enter with Éponine, and he hadn't attended a meeting in almost four months.

Once the bartender handed her the drink, Éponine sat with Bahorel and Feuilly. They joked playfully until Combeferre called them to order. Everything went smoothly for a while until Courfeyrac called out to Feuilly.

"Hey, will you be able to design the posters and flyers for the protest next month?"

Feuilly paused and frowned. "Im sorry, I can't. Rent went up, so I'll have to put in a ton of overtime to be able to afford to live there. I'm trying to find a new place so I can go back to my regular hours, but until then I don't think I'll have the time to draw some up."

Everyone's faces fell in disappointment and deep thought. Feuilly had taken over the artsy side of Les Amis since Grantaire disappeared from the meetings. No one else could do anything remotely to do with art. Hell, most of them struggled with stick men. After a few moments of silence, Éponine sighed.

"I've talked with 'Taire, and he says he might be able to be back for the next meeting. Maybe you can ask him if he can do it then?" She suggested.

"Grantaire's coming back?" Combeferre asked, glancing back briefly at his blond friend. Enjolras was staring wide-eyed at Éponine, and Courfeyrac was grinning like Christmas had just come early.

"Yeah, he should be, soon," Éponine answered, nodding.

"Why did he stop coming? Why did he start avoiding me- I mean, us." Enjolras asked, looking bashfully at his hands.

"It's his business, you should ask him." The blond nodded slowly at her response.

* * *

 

It was late when Éponine reentered her apartment. She smiled at the loose pieces of paper scattered around the living room. Obviously, Grantaire had been drawing earlier in the day. She picked them up, analyzing each before adding them to the pile. She was about halfway through before she realized the common theme.

They were all of Les Amis, everyone had at least one portrait. They weren't the usual almost-perfect renderings though, there were subtle differences between them and the subjects. The pictures were the proof of Grantaire's four month absence. His friends had begun to grow hazy in his mind, and it must have torn him up inside to know he couldn't picture them exactly. Eponine looked at the coffee table, where some old pictures she'd taken of all of her friends sat littered about. He'd used them as reference for some of the better drawings.

Éponine walked down the hallway and knocked on Grantaire's door. A grumbled "come in" came from inside, so she entered. Grantaire lay face-down on his bed, his body lax. Éponine sat next to him and rubbed his back soothingly.

"Just a few more days, and you can see them again. I told them you might be coming back for the next meeting and everyone got really excited. Enjolras asked after you again. Everyone's missed you a shit ton."

Grantaire turned his head so he could look at her, a small smile playing at his lips. "Really?"

"Absolutely, dick head," she replied.

"I can't wait to see them all again," he murmured.

"I know you can't. Especially your dear Enjolras."

"Shut up, he's way out of my league. I ended up dating an abusive asshat just to forget about him, and it never worked."

"He's seemed worried and a bit off ever since you left."

"Probably thinks he said something to drive me away. Just guilt," Grantaire waved it off.

"We'll see then, won't we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be up in a day or two.
> 
> loser-angel.tumblr.com  
> I follow back.


	3. Makeup for Making Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire goes to Les Amis' meeting.

Several days later, Grantaire sat on the closed toilet seat in the bathroom with Eponine perched on a chair in front of him. She was perfecting his makeup, making sure that all of his bruises were covered. They'd been at it for nearly an hour, making the cover up match his skin tone exactly.

The meeting started in an hour, and Grantaire was itching to go. Once Eponine finished with his makeup, he paced in the living room for fifteen minutes. He grabbed his sketchbook, a few pencils, and an eraser and set them on the counter. Standing in front of his collected items, he began to tap on the edge of the counter, all the while staring at the clock on the microwave.

"Stop your tapping. Let's go, loser, we can be a bit early," Eponine said, hiding her smile as she led him out the door.

They hailed a taxi, and Grantaire bounced his knee and tapped the arm rest the entire ride to the Musain. Eponine tried to hide her smile in the cab, looking out the window with obvious amusement. Grantaire scowled in her direction before looking at his lap. He was nervous and anxious to see his friends again. When the taxi finally pulled up to the cafe, Grantaire paid and they stood in front of the building for a moment as he prepared himself for whatever his friends' reactions might be.

Once Eponine was sure he was ready, she opened the door. The tinkling of bells alerted the ammassed group of college-age kids in the back of the door. Ten heads lifted and watched the doorway as Eponine entered. A moment later Grantaire was past the threshhold and Bahorel and Courfeyrac were out of their seats to rush him from across the room.

"R! You're back!" Courfeyrac yelled, engulfing him in a tight hug.

Bahorel beamed and ruffled his friend's hair, "It's great to see you again."

His friends' jostling made him drop his art supplies, but Eponine was good enough to rescue them from the possibility of being trodden on. Grantaire was beaming and accepted all hugs, but was conscious to not let anyone rub at his face.

Once everything was settled, and everyone seated again, Jehan leaned across a table and asked, "Where've you been, 'Taire? We asked your professors, and they all said you'd been going to your classes. But we haven't seen you in months!"

"I was busy, I guess," he shrugged, pointedly avoiding his friends' eyes.

"Well, lemme buy you a beer to celebrate you coming back," Courfeyrac said, motioning to the bartender to get his attention.

"Actually, I'm- uh- sober."

"Really?" Enjolras asked, his eyes a little wide.

"Yeah, I've been sober for three months and twenty seven days so far," Grantaire said, scratching at the side of his head.

"That's wonderful, congratulations," Combeferre said, beginning a round of congratulations from all of his friends.

"Then a soda, on me," Courfeyrac corrected, getting the bartender to get him the drink.

"Thanks man," Grantaire smiled.

"Hey, Grantaire," Combeferre began as he approached, "We were wondering, if you have the time for it now, if you'd be able to design the posters, flyers, and pamphlets for the protest next month?"

The artist blinked, then nodded, "Sure, what are you protesting this time?"

"The city is refusing to provide buffer zones for abortion clinics, or punish the harrassers in any way," Combeferre answered, passion and anger infiltrating his voice.

"Let me hear Enjolras give a speech, and gimme a few sources so I can catch up on the subject, and I'll get it done."

Combeferre arched an eyebrow, thinking about how strange it was that Grantaire hadn't even kept up with new like that. The backlash from a few of the scarier harrassers had made the six o'clock news. He wondered what it was that had kept Grantaire so busy. The curly-haired man wasn't paying attention though. He glanced over at Enjolras, who was overtly staring at him.

"Why'd you leave?" The blond asked. "Did I-?"

"I didn't leave because of you, Apollo. I just had stuff I needed to do," Grantaire replied.

Enjolras nodded, a small smile now on display. Grantaire didn't leave because of him, good. He was back now, which was wonderful. He was even sober, which was even better. Everything about the situation was fantastic.

And then the familiar chiming of bells filled the cafe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have the next chapter written yet, so there might be more of a wait on it.  
> As always, url is loser-angel.tumblr.com  
> I follow back.


	4. In With the Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Les Amis meet the ex.

Les Amis didn't look up at the door this time when the bells rang. After all, why would they need to? Everyone who mattered was already there. Grantaire was smiling at a now relaxed and happy Enjolras. The blond was just glad to know he didn't drive him away from the group. That, coupled with the fact that Grantaire was back, was making his month.

About a minute after the door closed, a man stormed across the cafe and knocked Grantaire off of his seat. The wooded chair clattered as it fell to the floor, and the artist looked up, shocked, at who had instigated the violence. He wasn't really sure if he was surprised or not to see the man standing above him. Eponine stiffened as she recognized him, but everyone else looked utterly shocked and confused.

Grantaire scrambled to a standing position, his fists clenched defensively. The man in front of him had an undercut with black hair, styled so the bangs poofed a bit in the front. His stubble looked like it had been forgotten for a few days, and his eyes were red-ringed. He didn't look around, but glared intensely at Grantaire.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" The man demanded, growling out each syllable.

"Better question, what the fuck are you here for, Tomas?" Grantaire replied, malice seeping into his voice. Most of Les Amis sat on the edge of their seats, ready to jump in to help him if he needed any.

"I figured I'd be able to find you here, you stupid fucking bastard. You were always such an idiot, thinking that going to these stupid meetings made you actually worth something."

Grantaire's face screwed up in contempt as he spat, "You've no fucking right to look for me, asshole. You lost that."

"I've got the right to look for my fucking boyfriend, no matter how much of a fuck-up he is," Tomas said, ever so sure of himself. Courfeyrac's eyes snapped to Enjolras quickly, getting a quick glance of the disappointment in his friend's eyes before he schooled his face back to a passive stare.

"I broke up with you! We're done!" Grantaire exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"The evidence of our breakup is gone," Tomas said, a sadistic grin touching his lips. "I would've thought your face would be a fucking rainbow right now."

The artist's shoulders tensed and squeezed his fists a few times nervously as his friends realized what Tomas had meant. He looked down, staring at Tomas's feet instead of his face. "Get the fuck out of here," he growled.

"Wait- what the fuck? Did this douchebag hurt you?" Bahorel asked, standing.

"Shut up, 'Rel..." Époninemurmured and grabbed hold of his elbow, pulling him back down.

"Oooooh, you didn't tell them? First you cover your bruises, then you lie to your little friends?" Tomas taunted.

"Don't fuck with me, Tomas. Just get the fuck out of here. We're done. I fucking hate you. Leave," Grantaire said, his voice straining to not shout.

"Fine, but you just know that you're gonna regret this."

"I really won't."

Once Tomas left the cafe, Grantaire walked over to Éponine, kissed her cheek, and informed her that he was going back home. He was feeling tired, understandably. His shoulders were still tense and he looked scared now that he didn't have to pretend to be tough in front of his ex. Les Amis wanted to question him about everything, but a glare from Éponine silenced them. They merely wished him a good night and watched him fled.

When Grantaire got home, he sat on the floor in front of the fridge, staring at the white surface of it. It was covered in magnets and doodles and photographs. Alphabet magnets hung in random conglomerations on the freezer door.

He really wanted a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, I wrote this quickly.   
> As always, my URL is loser-angel.tumblr.com  
> I follow back


	5. Let's Get Down to Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire makes decisions.

When Éponine entered the apartment, the loud noise of the television shocked her. She figured that Grantaire would immediately go to sleep when he got home, choosing unconsciousness over the hell of his own thoughts. Grantaire usually chose to screw consciousness- or sobriety- when something bad happened. She was being optimistic that he had chosen sleep.

She stepped quietly into the kitchen, finding the wine bottles and beer cans in the sink. A few bottles lay broken on the floor, from being dropped- not thrown. She carefully walked around the broken glass and into the living room. Grantaire was cocooned in the comforted from his bed, a paint, bleach, and food-stained mess of a duvet that Grantaire adored. He sipped at a mug of hot chocolate as he stared at the television with dead eyes.

He was watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail, his favorite movie.

Éponine sat next to him on the couch and leaned against his tense shoulder as she announced, "I haven't told them anything. I figured you should decide what they should know. They were all extremely polite about it, and are incredibly worried about you."

Grantaire turned his head so she could see his face. He'd washed the makeup off, revealing the rainbows that had blossomed across his face. Blues, purples, blacks- the usual bruise colors- but also a bit of green, yellow, and red dappled his cheekbones.

He watched her blankly for a moment before saying, "I didn't drink, you know. I dumped it all down the sink because I didn't want to be so fucking tempted when I'm feeling like shit. I'm not a glass doll that you've got to tiptoe around, you know that. I can take care of myself. I don't need anyone's pity."

"I know, 'Taire."

"I-I'm okay. I can fight my own battles and..." Grantaire's shell broke as he whimpered and Éponine saw the tears begin to roll off his cheeks.

"I know, love. Believe me, I know. But sometimes it's okay to lean on people a little bit. You don't have to let them do everything, or even most things. But how about you let some people help you do simple stuff? Like watch movies with you and make you good food? You don't need to be coddled, but please don't seclude yourself. I love you so much, 'Taire, and so do Les Amis," she said, smoothing his hair.

"Okay," he mumbled, leaning his head on top of hers.

"It's late, how about we get you to bed?" Éponine murmured.

"M'kay..." Grantaire yawned and stood, letting his friend lead him off to bed. 

* * *

 

The next morning, the artist crawled out of bed and shuffled into Éponine's room. It was almost noon, but his room mate's face was still buried in her pillow. Grantaire sat next to her and poked her cheek, making her twitch awake. She scowled into the bright light from the window and glared up at Grantaire. The glare dropped when she saw his resolute expression.

"What's up, 'Taire?" She asked.

"Can you call everyone over here? I wanna get the whole 'I was in a shitty, abusive relationship' thing out of the way," He said, tracing the curling vine tattoo on his forearm self-consciously.

"You don't want to call them yourself?" Éponine queried as she sat up.

Grantaire shook his head quickly, "No, I don't want to talk to them until they get here. I'm gonna go get ice cream, you can text me when they're all here."

"Do you want me to do your make up?"

"Nah, I might as well let 'em see what that asshat did to me," he mumbled and shrugged.

"Okay, love. I'll call 'em. Go get your ice cream," Éponine said, poking at his side and making him smile.

"Mmhm," he nodded and stood up. Grantaire walked to the closet by the front door and pulled on his battered black Converse, his red beanie, and a green sweatshirt. Under the sweatshirt, he was wearing an old- slept in- Wombats t-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants. When he left, Éponine placed a few calls and hopped in the shower.


	6. Lovely Little Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire explains his relationship to his friends.

Éponine was sipping chai tea in the kitchen when the first visitors arrived. She was dressed in a pair of polka-dot pajama shorts and an old red t-shirt from one of the rallies. Her hair was pulled up on the top of her head in a messy bun, a few stray locks and flyaways fluttered as she walked toward the door.

Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta all bustled inside when the short brunette flung open the door. Musichetta sat her boys on the loveseat and then proceeded to sit on the counter in the kitchen. Her boys talked quietly in the uncomfortable silence.

The voluptuous woman indicated the numerous bottles that sat by the sink with her chin and raised her eyebrow. "Rough night?"

Éponine shook her head, "'Taire dumped it all because he was getting urges. He's still sober."

"That's good!" Joly interjected, beaming from his spot on the loveseat.

"It's really good. I'm glad Grantaire's okay," Musichetta agreed with a nod.

Musichetta, when she had first joined the group, had been an outsider. But soon she was mothering everyone and insisting on more representation of women's rights in the group. Musichetta had brought Éponine and Cosette together and formed a friendship between the three of them that thrived. She cared about everyone, and Éponine could tell from her frequent glances at the door that she was worried about Grantaire.

Another knock at the door made Éponine spring to the door again, this time letting in Combeferre and Enjolras, followed shortly by Jehan and Courfeyrac. The Poet and the Center sat on the floor by the loveseat while Enjolras and Combeferre settled onto the couch. Eponine handed out sodas, tossing cans to those she knew could catch them (Musichetta, Combeferre, and Jehan) and handing them gently to those she knew couldn't (Bossuet, Joly, Courfeyrac, and Enjolras).

When Bahorel and Feuilly got there, they were bickering about something menial, like doing the dishes. Honestly, no one was listening. It was too common for them to be fighting like children. They sat on the opposite end of the couch from Combeferre and Enjolras. Éponine only tossed them drinks after threatening them with castration if they shook them up.

Marius and Cosette arrived not long after, holding hands and smiling like the eternal puppies that they are. Bahorel and Courfeyrac heckled Marius about his pink face, because the man still hadn't lost the ability to blush in Cosette's presence. They decided to sit cross-legged next to the couch, sticking their tongues out ruefully at their friends. Éponine handed them sodas, which they thanked her for immediately.

It was another half hour before the front door opened again, revealing Grantaire chattering away on his cell phone. Grantaire looked up at his friends, who were gaping at his assorted colors of bruises. There was a Sesame Street bandage across his cheek. He decided to end his conversation quickly. "Don't worry, Ant! I promise I'll visit you and Claire soon, okay?" He laughed, "Love you too, sweetie. See you soon."

All was quiet until Éponine asked, "Where'd you get that band-aid?"

"A little girl made her mom give me it when she saw I was all bruised. She said it'd make me feel better," Grantaire chuckled. "She wouldn't leave me alone until I put it on."

"You were out for a while, too. I thought you were just getting ice cream," she responded.

"Antionette ended up calling me and I got distracted," he waved off.

"Antionette?" Cosette asked.

"She's my older sister. She lives upstate with her daughter. We've both been really busy lately, so we haven't been able to call or skype or anything," Grantaire said as he hung up his hoodie in the closet and shucked off his shoes.

"You were gonna tell us what yesterday was about, right?" Courfeyrac asked anxiously.

"It's really kind of simple, and I was being an idiot..." Grantaire sighed before he began.

"So, about six months ago, I met Tomas at this bar when I was bartending. He was cool then, calm and uncontrolling. We went out a few times, I didn't tell you guys because he's got the same views I do and he would be even worse than I was with the arguing, and I really didn't want that to ruin us," he said as he begun to pace in front of the TV.

"And then he told me I should stop going to meetings because, for one, I don't believe in the world you envision, two, I hold you back with my constant fighting and bullshit, and three, he didn't like hearing about you guys. So I stopped going. And soon after that I moved in with him. He got me sober and I was actually pretty happy for a while.

"Then he started insulting my art, interfering when I tried to talk to Éponine, calling in sick constantly for the classes he didn't want me to take, he even took money out of my wallet a couple times. We started fighting more and we'd hit each other, but I'd always get hurt more, and then I couldn't talk to my sister because who wants to let their niece see them beat to hell?

"So we got in a huge fight almost a week ago, and I finally broke it off. And this happened," Grantaire gestured to his face. "And now I have to hope that he was was just mad and saying shit when he said he was gonna fuck up my life because he can do that. He's a low member in Patron Minette, but has friends higher up...shit."

Grantaire scrubbed at his face with his hand and groaned. "So yeah, that's my story. I'm an idiot."

Jehan frowned, "No you aren't. Don't say that. This was not your fault." And then he hugged him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My url is loser-angel.tumblr.com  
> I follow back

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is loser-angel.tumblr.com, but it's been forever since I actually posted anything. I follow back though, so there's always that.


End file.
